


Indelible Liasons

by orphan_account



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Hand Jobs, Harassment, Humiliation, Kissing, M/M, Medical Examination, Mind Games, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Polar Bears - Freeform, Rimming, Situational Humiliation, Ski fights, prison rape, tied up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Indelible - definition: that cannot be removed, washed away, or erased.Matt ends up in prison with Wilson Fisk. He's raped on the first day and then manipulated and gaslit into becoming the Kingpin's obedient agent.
Relationships: Wilson Fisk/Matt Murdock
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

Matt Murdock felt small and frightened. He sensed the hostility around him, the isolation. The lack of guards within the vicinity. He could hear the hushed whispers of prisoners down the line. Their breaths hitching as they listened, knowing what was about to happen in Wilson Fisk’s cell with his brand new cell mate. 

Matt had been beaten, burned, shot at, and beaten some more before he’d been brought in and yet he was somehow still standing on his feet. The metal cuffs cut into his sore wrists, left on by guards giving in to Fisk’s every whim. Matt wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he was still cuffed. Sure, it was going to make it harder to fight back against Fisk. But a more optimistic part of him thought it was because Fisk was afraid. Fisk remembered how hard he punched. Remembered that he’d only beaten Matt all those times because each time, Matt had been wounded. 

Wilson was a careful man. Brutal. But he didn’t take chances. Unfortunately he wasn’t taking one now as Matt was wounded, sore, and could barely lift his arms much less throw a punch at Fisk. Even blind, Matt sensed the power in the man. He could smell the steel on his hands from all the power lifting he’d been doing in prison. Fisk had been strong and now he was stronger. 

“You’re not as strong as you think you are,” Fisk said, in his raspy deep voice, as if reading Matt’s thoughts. 

Matt startled and took a step back, hitting the bars behind him. From the moment the guards had pushed him into his new cell, Matt hadn’t moved an inch forward. Simply stood there, dumbfounded. A cold dread seeping into his bones as he sensed the large man, seated on his bunk as if it were a throne. As if he were the king of this prison. And unfortunately for Matt, he was. Wilson Fisk was king. He controlled everything in here. 

Matt controlled nothing. “Neither are you,” he said softly, resting his back against the bars and doing his best to regain control over his emotions. 

Wilson stood up and Matt’s heart raced. 

“It’s better if you don’t fight.” Wilson’s voice chilled him to the bone. 

Matt took a breath, recalling everything he’d learned from Stick about meditation. Matt was at a disadvantage, sure. His wrists were cuffed and he had little strength due to the wounds he’d sustained before being captured. But he couldn’t let Fisk win the mental game. He wouldn’t be intimidated. 

“It would be better if it was a fair fight.”

Fisk came forward and Matt stepped to the side, quickly moving away from the many pounds of thick muscle Wilson carried. He sensed the wry sneer cross Fisk’s lips. “You’re fast. Even in this state. Who are you to define what is fair, Mr. Murdock? You know I’m a man who takes what I want. You are here, after all. My honored guest.” 

Now it was Matt’s turn to sneer. He wished he had something clever and scathing to say, but all he did was snarl, as if he wanted to rip Fisk apart with his teeth. Wanted to kill him. 

Fisk’s laughter boomed through the cell. “You have an attitude. Fitting for the Devil of Hell’s kitchen. But that kind of bravado won’t help you here, Matthew.” 

Matt moves backward around the cell, moving away from Fisk as the bigger man took small, even steps towards him. A shark circling his prey, savoring the blood in the water. Fisk’s heart pounded steady, not missing a beat. The man was as cool, calm, and collected as he ever was. 

Which is why Matt didn’t have time to move out of the way, when suddenly Fisk’s fist was coming towards his face and popped him right in the face. Matt fell back and collapsed onto the floor, gravity forcing him down, disorienting him, and Matt reacted with instinct, fighting Fisk off as he’d fought so many others before. He kicked and punched and was pummelled in return. 

“It doesn’t have to be like this!” Fisk bellowed, his meaty fist coming down to grab Matt by the throat. Matt tried to push him away with his manacled wrists, but Fisk was a force of earth. He was the force of Matt’s world in this tiny cell and pushing against him was like fighting the world itself. Crushing, unbearable weight bearing down on him as Fisk flipped him over to his knees and bent him over the bed. 

“Fuck you!” Matt spat. 

“In time, Matthew. But first, we need some ground rules if we are to get along.” Fisk held Matt down by the neck as his other hand pulled his pants down to his knees, exposing his ass to the air. 

“No! Fisk, no!” Matt yelled, struggling uselessly against Fisk’s strength and weight. 

SMACK! Matt yelped as Fisk’s hand came down hard on his ass. 

“Like I said, we have some ground rules to go over.” 

“I’ll fucking kill you, Fisk! I’ll kill you!” 

“Shhhhh. It’ll all be over soon. Just relax and enjoy this. Like I said, it’s better if you don’t fight.” Fisk runs his hands over Matt’s smooth ass. He spread the lawyer’s cheeks apart and ran a finger down his crack. He slipped his hand in between Matt’s legs, fondling his balls, and finally meaty fingers wrapping around the shaft of Matt’s penis. 

“Stop…!” Matt shouted in alarm, his voice cut off in shock as Wilson squeezed. Matt whimpered. Wilson hummed in satisfaction and stroked Matt’s cock. 

Matt buried his face into the bed, his body shaking, barely able to breath as the big man bored down on him. “Please…!” Matt begged. Even to his ears it sounded pathetic. 

Wilson chuckled. “Of course, Matthew.” And began stroking Matt’s cock. 

“Oh god, no…!” That wasn’t what he’d meant. To Matt’s disgust, his cock filled out, aroused by the ministrations of Fisk’s hand, his body utterly betraying him. “No…!” Matt whimpered, unable to keep himself quiet as he let out soft sounds of despair and arousal. 

“Let it happen, Matthew. Let yourself enjoy this. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen moaning like a wanton whore. Music to my ears.” Wilson spit and Matt felt it dribble into his puckered hole. Now that Matt’s cock was hard, Wilson removed his hand and sucked on two of his fingers. He brings them down into Matt’s crack, running them up and down, moving the spit around, and toying around at Matt’s entrance. 

Matt grunted and tried to say something, tried to protest, but Wilson shifted his weight and suddenly the wind was knocked out of Matt. He could breath, but barely, Wilson’s weight bore down on his back, pushing his chest and face into the mattress bunk. All Matt could do was whimper as Fisk pushed a finger into his hole, pushing it all the way in, and dragging it out, taking his time to fuck Matt’s asshole with it. 

“So gorgeous you are, Matthew. I’ve always thought so. Every time I see those soft, precious lips of yours, I imagine them wrapped around my cock. It’s like you were teasing me with them. Covering all of your face except those pure, fuckable lips of yours.” He added a second finger, fucking and scissoring them, forcing Matt’s hole open, even as it contracted tightly due to Matt panicking and struggling. “I promise I’ll make this good for you. We’re enemies, but we’re not savages.” 

Fisk added a third finger. He was getting impatient preparing Matthew. Since the man was so determined to fight him, Wilson would give him what he wanted. 

Fisk got off of Matt and positioned himself behind the blind lawyer, hands on his hips to line him up with Wilson’s cock. “Did you ever think you belonged anywhere but beneath me, Daredevil?” Fisk licked his lips and pressed his cock up against the Daredevil’s hole. Matt gasped and struggled, his blind eyes darting around, unseeing and helpless. 

Matt panted and the sound of his own breathing filled his ears. But soon, his own noise was drowned out with the flavor of Wilson Fisk. The bigger man grunted and rammed his cock into Matt’s ass, pushing it firmly against Matt. He had been breached in the most intimate way, a castle stormed and desecrated. Raped. Filled with the man he most despised. 

“I hate you,” Matt whimpered. 

Fisk’s voiced rasped in his ear, “Hate is the closest thing a man like you experiences to love.” 

Matt responded to the words as if they were poison. “You know nothing about me.” Matt had friends. Lovers. People he cared about. Fisk was a nightmare. His mind briefly flashed back to the first time he’d ever met Fisk. 

It was in the art gallery when he’d come to see Vanessa, curious about who could love a man like Fisk. She had been a clever and elegant woman. Matt knew he was attractive and women usually fawned all over him. But her, she had a class and elegance to her and he could see why Fisk liked her. But why had she liked FIsk? When he’d walked in, Matt had immediately smelled the brutality on the man. Could still smell blood on his fists even though he’d cleaned himself thoroughly with an expensive brand of soap Matt didn’t recognize. 

He’d suddenly felt so out of his depth between Vanessa and Wilson. He didn’t belong in that fancy art gallery. The smell of dried paint, particles of dried blood, the smell of the carefully made omelet Fisk had eaten that morning, Matt could smell the penthouse on him. The combination of carefully crafted style and brutality was a heady and dangerous one. Matt had been eager to leave. 

As his consciousness returns to the present, Wilson’s cock is moving smoothly in and out of him. The sheer size of him caused Matt to cry out in a heady mix of pain and pleasure. His body didn’t seem to be him anymore. His cock was hard and soon Wilson was hitting that sweet spot inside him. The spot Matt had only heard of but had never explored. 

His surprised gasp causes Wilson to chuckle, a low rumbly bass sound that vibrated through Matt’s body. “So you’re a virgin back here, are you? I want you to know, Mr. Murdock, that it is an honor to be the first to do this to you.” He ran his hand Matt’s back in a soothing manner, before roughly grabbing the back of Matt’s neck. “You’ll remember this. Because it’s your first. And because it’s me. Because after today, Mr. Murdock, I will destroy you. I will break you, grind you down into the dust until there is nothing left of you and then I will rebuild you back up as I see fit, into my own personal toy. You will serve me and I will be your master.” 

“You’ll never be my master!” Matt cried. 

“You’re so young, Matthew. So stupid yet so gifted. But you’re not me. And someone like you will never be on top.” Wilson gripped Matt’s throat with one hand, while he held onto Matt’s hip with the other and brutally thrust into him. Wilson grabbed Matt’s cock in his big fist and stroked him, stroking and hitting his sweet spot until Matt cried out, moaning in pleasure and sharp little please. Wilson was playing him like a violin, hitting all the notes, completely in control of his instrument. 

Matt’s cum splattered uselessly, spilling out as Wilson’s fist coaxed the orgasm out of him, pressed that spot, filling Matt with his own cum. Wilson’s grunt of pleasure was a lot more dignified than the noises Matt was making. 

Matt had lost control. The pleasure was so exquisite that his toes curled and he pressed himself against Fisk, unable to think, lost in the intensity of the feeling, split open and vulnerable. Matt could feel Wilson’s orgasm roll through him, his cum filling Matt’s ass. In this moment, Wilson’s cock filled his world and he hated his senses, hating being so utterly sensitive, hating that a man like Wilson Fisk could coax this pleasure and these noises out of him. It was horrible. Shame pooled at the bottom of Matt’s belly. The shame of Wilson’s semen invading him. He wanted to vomit. 

“That was exquisite, Matthew.” Fisk ran his hand through Matt’s hair, petting it like one would a cat. “You’re gorgeous like this. I look forward to when you heal up and give me a real fight. Beating you then and taking my prize will be the reward of my day.” He ran his hand down Matt’s ass, cupping the firm cheek. Matt could feel the admiring gaze and felt disgusted. “Every day, this is what you have to look forward to.” 

Wilson pulled his limp cock out of Matt’s gaping hole. He stepped away and went to the sink to wash himself up and fix his uniform. Even in a prison uniform, Wilson stayed utterly pristine. He watched Murdock in the mirror while he washed his hands and his dick. 

The blind lawyer folded in on himself. He had fallen to the floor and was laying in the fetal position. The cuffs prevented him from pulling his pants back up. Either that or Murdock was simply too hurt to move. Wilson stared dispassionately down at him. 

“I am not a cruel man, Mr. Murdock. I am a man of honor. Don’t fight me. Do as I say and I will protect you from the animals in here. The real animals.” 

“You’re one to talk…” Matt spat out blood that had pooled in his mouth from being punched by Wilson earlier. “I’ll never obey you!” he said defiantly. 

Wilson nodded. “I understand that men like you simply take time to break. You’re like a wild pull, a stallion. Soon, you’ll be eating out of my hand, Mr. Murdock.” 

Wilson waved his hand, signaling for a guard to come and take Matt away. They put him into solitary confinement for the next three days. They fed him a minimal amount of food and nobody talked to him. A male nurse would come in to tend his wounds once each day. The guy worked for Fisk, Matt could tell. And yet he gave Matt’s wounds cursory and professional attention for which he was grateful for. 

Matt laid there on the cold, concrete floor and stared unseeing at the ceiling. He listened to the lamps burning overhead, the light he couldn’t see, but particles he could sense emanating from the fluorescent lights above. Even from here, Matt could hear the bustle of the prison. The smacking of mouths as they eat, the sounds of metal on metal, men lifting heavy weights. Fisk meaty body getting ever stronger. Matt focused in on Fisk, could sense his muscles tearing under the heavy weight of the barbell. Weight that was more that Matt weighed soaking wet. Fuck. How was he going to get out of here? 

He could barely move. His entire body ached and even his faster than normal healing felt slow. For three days, Matt laid there and tried not to move.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After three days in solitary confinement, Matt is taken out for a medical examination presided over by the Kingpin.

On day four of his solitude, they led him through a claustrophobic maze of hallways to the infirmary. Matt sensed Wilson Fisk’s looming presence even before the door was opened. He’d hesitated down the hall and the guards had shoved him violently forward, opening the door and herding him inside like an animal. Matt resisted the urge to fight back because while he could beat one or two guards, he didn’t want to find himself at the bottom of a pile of men, bearing down on him, men that somehow still wouldn’t match the weight of the Kingpin. He didn’t have it in him to fight through an entire prison and thus was forced, once again, to come face to face with Wilson Fisk. 

Matt shuddered as the door locked behind him, leaving him face to face with the ever calm, mountainous presence of Wilson Fisk. The man’s scent enters his nostrils, Matt unwillingly aware of how clean and nicely scented the man was. The man always smelled good and Matt hated himself for thinking that. 

“Unshackle him. He’s not going to fight.” 

Matt’s skin crawled as Fisk’s voice rolled over him, a wave of deep bass music straight from Hell itself. The guard seemed dubious, not trusting Matt knowing he’d once been Daredevil. He was confused how a blind man managed to become a vigilante. He didn’t seem like much. A mere slip of a man. He certainly wasn’t Daredevil no more. 

They remove his cuffs. Matt rubbed at his sore wrists. 

“Leave us.”

“Boss, you sure…?”

“He’s harmless.”

“Yes, sir.” The door opens once more as the guard leaves. Matt can sense himself alone with only the Kingpin and one other quiet presence… The facility nurse. 

“I think you’re getting overconfident,” Matt said, bluffing, trying to puff himself up, remember that he was still Daredevil, he still had his senses, and he’d taken the Kingpin down before. 

He bristled as he sensed the amusement that radiated from Wilson’s voice. “Would you prefer to be shackled?”

Matt didn’t respond. 

Wilson chuckles. “I didn’t think so.”

“Why am I here?” 

“Your wounds, Matthew.” Matt hated it when Fisk used his name like that. The way he said it made Matt feel like an owned pet. “You’re still in recovery.” 

Fisk motions for the nurse, who comes forward, “Take off your clothes, Murdock.” 

Matt flinched back, not wanting to be touched by this man, or by any man. “No. I won’t… I won’t give you what you want.” Fear rose in Matt’s voice, fear from the memory of three days ago, the last time he’d come into too close contact with Wilson Fisk. He took a few steps back, away from the nurse and away from Fisk. 

“Let him tend your wounds. You can’t beat me without your strength, can you? Cooperate with him. I promise no harm will come to you.” Wilson sounded so pragmatic and considering the circumstances, Matt couldn’t think of a better course of action. He couldn’t escape and he didn’t want to die of an infection. Yet still Matt hesitated. 

Fisk continued, “You’re filthy, Matthew. You haven’t showered in three days. With your heightened senses I can’t imagine that would be very pleasant. Your clothes are crusted with your own body excrement. Now be a good boy and remove them so Mr. Gooch can get you cleaned up and tended to.” 

Matt’s own heartbeat picked up as Fisk told him to be a good boy. How dare he talk down to him like that! Matt was offended and wanted to resist, to fight, even if he got his ass kicked. And yet at the same time his cock twitched in arousal, responding to a kink he hadn’t even known he had. What was wrong with him? It was the solitary, that was it. 

“Perhaps you’d like the guards to come in and hold you down? Cut your filthy clothes right off of you. You’ve always been attracted to violence, Matthew. I can arrange that, if you wish.” 

Matt’s cheeks burned as he blushed hard whimpered, distressed at his situation. He shook his head. 

“I didn’t think so. Mr. Gooch, continue. Matthew won’t give you any trouble.”

Gooch moved to grab Matt’s arm and still he flinched back. 

“Wait!” Matt shouted, trying to get away from the nurse. He turned toward Fisk. “Why… why did you…” Why did you rape me? He wanted to ask, but couldn’t form the words. The humiliation was too much. “... why did you do that to me?”

“Why did I do what to you, Mr. Murdock? You’re a lawyer. Use your words.”

“You know what you did.”

“Do I?”

“Stop it! You assaulted me! You.. you violated me.”

“I did no such thing.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Hmmm. You’re stalling, Matthew. Get your check up, then we’ll speak further.”

“Remove your clothes, prisoner, or I’ll remove them for you!” Gooch was getting impatient and grabbed Matt’s arm, forcefully leading him to the exam table. “Your clothes are filthy and your bandages need to be changed. You reek, Murdock. It ain’t a good look.”

Matt couldn’t understand why Fisk would lie when he had no reason to. Gooch started forcefully removing Matt’s filthy jumpsuit and Matt let him do it. Soon he was standing there naked, the nurse washing his body down, removing his bandages, and cleaning his skin. Matt wished he could just shower in private and stitch himself up the way he always did when he was free. But the nurse was doing a competent, if rough, job of cleaning his wounds and his body. 

Matt felt like a helpless child and he hated it. All under the watchful gaze of the Kingpin. 

Gooch changed his bandages and tended his wounds and Matt was glad for it. He’d been in so much pain and had been blocking it out. He was still hurting, but Gooch’s attentions brought him some relief at least. 

“Open your mouth,” Gooch said, grabbing Matt’s jaw. 

Matt resisted. “Why?” He could sense Gooch looking at the Kingpin, as if the man were his keeper. 

“Your teeth, Matthew. Your mouth needs to be cleaned out.” 

Gooch grabbed his jaw and shoved his fingers inside, inspecting Matt’s mouth. He thrust a toothbrush into it and started brushing. 

“I can do it myself!” Matt protested, trying to grab the toothbrush. 

“Matthew.” One word from the Kingpin held the promise of a threat that Matt didn’t want to hear. He dropped his hands and let Gooch violate his mouth, brush his teeth, floss, and clean it out with some foul tasting medicinal fluid. 

Gooch finished and said, “Now bend over. I’ve got to examine your rectal cavity.”

“What…? Is that necessary? No! You’re just going to...”

“This is a professional medical examination, Murdock. Are you gonna cooperate or am I gonna have to send you back to solitary buck naked?” Matt’s face burned as he heard Fisk laugh quietly as he watched Matt be humiliated. 

Gooch’s hand slid over Matt’s back as he guided him chest down over the exam table. Gooch put on a rubber glove and lubed it up as Matt wondered how he’d ended up like this? 

Gooch’s finger was cold as he pressed it into Matt’s rectum. It slid in easily with the lube. Matt’s breath hitched as his finger slid in all the way and dug around. For the next ten minutes, Gooch explored his anal cavity and cleaned it out with some saline solution, filling him with just enough water to clean him out and removing it with some suction tube. “Allright, nice and clean,” Gooch said, running a hand over Matt’s ass cheek. “Stay where you are, we’re almost done. Gotta take your temperature now.” He slid something that seemed too big to be a thermometer, but Matt could sense the mercury inside. It slid deeply and easily into Matt’s ass. 

Matt bit his lip and whimpered as it brushed against his prostate, and Gooch, as if sensing that, wiggled it around some more. He sensed Fisk’s breath hitch and smelled his arousal. Matt was embarrassed to realize his own cock had filled out and he was flushed with arousal. 

“It’s okay, Murdock. This is normal. Just stay where you are and let me finish examining you. Other than your wounds, so far you look healthy enough.” Gooch ran his hands over Matt’s ass, down his inner thighs, nudging the thermometer all the while and stimulating Matt’s poor prostate. Finally, he ran his hands over Matt’s balls, gloved fingers gliding smoothly down the shaft. His touch was perfunctory, professional in a way, and somehow the indifference of it turned Matt on even more. 

He hated to admit that he was aching to be fucked, aching for something bigger than the thermometer currently lodged in his ass. 

“I see you, Matthew,” Fisk said softly. He was reminding Matt that his pleasure was not going unnoticed. “It appears you’re enjoying this.” 

“No,” Matt whispered and wiggled his ass. 

The Kingpin laughed softly and his delight at Matt’s distress was palpable. 

“Leave us now, Mr. Gooch.” 

“Yes, sir.” Gooch unlocked the door and disappeared. Matt remained bent over the exam table, his cock hard, and the thermometer still lodged deeply inside him resting just against his prostate. He should move. He should take the thermometer out and stab Fisk in the eye with it. But he didn’t. He stayed where he was. 

Stayed put even as Fisk got up from the chair he was lounging in, took the six steps it took to get behind Matt and pulled the thermometer out, setting it on the counter. 

He ran his meaty hands over Matt’s smooth backside, running up and down his back and down to his butt. And through it, Matt still didn’t move. Maybe he was hoping Fisk would fuck him? Oh fuck, maybe he was. So what? Oh shit. Who and what was he now? 

“You’ve been such a good boy, Matthew.”

Oh fuck. Matt groaned. Wilson chuckled. 

“Good boys get rewarded.” 

Wilson grabbed Matt’s thighs and lifted his knees up onto the exam table. Now Matt’s face was pushed into the table and he was on his knees, his ass up in the air, nearly level to Fisk’s face. Fisk ran his hands over Matt’s cheek, spreading them and kneading them with his thumbs. Matt moaned in pleasure, his cock hard and begging for attention, his asshole fluttering around air and begging to be filled. 

Suddenly it was filled with something hot and wet. Wilson buried his face in Matt’s pristine ass and licks around his hole, teasing him. Finally, he pressed the thick muscle of his tongue into Matt’s hole. 

“Oh God,” Matt moaned, feeling such ecstasy through his body that contrasted sharply with a deep sense of shame pooling at his belly. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, shouldn’t be giving in to the pleasure. “You’re the devil,” he groaned. He could feel Fisk’s smirk against his ass. 

“I thought that was you.” Before Matt could reply, Fisk plunged his tongue back in. He licks and fucks his tongue into Matt, listening to the lawyer’s musical whimpers and moans of pleasure. He wrapped a meaty hand around Matt’s cock and stroked it once. Because once was all it took and suddenly Matt was coming, his muscles contracting and his cock releasing his pent up semen. Matt whimpered, wrung out. 

Fisk ran his hands down Matt’s perky ass. “Good boy,” he murmured. 

“Fuck you,” Matt spat, breathless and panting. 

“Hmm. Only if you’re good. Are you going to be good for me, Matthew?”

Matt turned and his leg struck out towards Fisk’s face. Fisk caught it and flipped Matt onto his back, still on the examination table. Fisk was much stronger and held Matt down, holding the lawyer’s leg over his shoulder. “I was hoping you’d do something like that. You have to know the consequences for bad behavior.” 

He pulled Matt off the table. Matt fell hard to the cold, concrete floor, Fisk still holding onto his leg. Fisk dragged Matt across the room where he sat down on a chair and pulled Matt over his lap. Matt tried to fight, but his arms and legs felt like jelly and quickly found himself ass up across Fisk’s lap. 

“What are you doing?” he asked frantically, fearing what the Kingpin was about to do to him. 

“Punishing you. Showing you what happens when you don’t obey me.”

“I’ll never obey you!” 

“Then you’ll be experiencing this a lot then, Matthew.” Fisk rubbed Matt’s sensitive ass cheeks, admiring the smooth skin. “You’re truly a beautiful specimen. A shame you can’t see how beautiful you are.” 

SMACK. Fisk’s hand came down hard on Matt’s ass, causing him to yelp in pain and surprise. 

“No! Stop!”

“You have to face consequences, Matthew. You’ve been naughty.”

SMACK. His hand came down again, more painful than the last. SMACK. The smacks continue, Fisk’s hand slapping hard against Matt’s ass. Matt had no idea how long it continued for, only that he was in agony, held down by the much bigger Fisk, as his precious ass was flayed. 

“You deserve this, Matthew. You know it. You deserved to be punished. Say it.”

“No,” Matt whimpered. SMACK. 

“Say it.” 

“I deserve to be punished.” 

SMACK. Matt cried. Tears poured down his face as Fisk continued. After what felt like forever, it stopped and soon Matt was whimpering and being held in Fisk’s arms. 

“You deserved that, Matthew.”

“I know,” Matt whimpered, tears smeared down his face. Only he didn’t deserve it for kicking Fisk, he deserved it for enjoying what was being done to him. Even the pain. Matt felt deeply ashamed of himself, but he craved this kind of pain. Had been craving it his whole life and hadn’t known it until now. God, he hated himself. 

“Are you going to be good for me now?”

“No.”

The Kingpin smiled. He set Matt down, gingerly onto his feet and stood up. “I thought you would say that.” Fisk made a motion and the nurse and two guards came rushing in. 

“Take him back to solitary.”

“Should we get him some clothes?”

“No,” Fisk smirked. “He hasn’t earned them yet.” 

They shackle up Matt’s hands and feet and pull him stumbling back to solitary, this time naked and cold. He’s there for three more days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt has a mental breakdown from being in Solitary for over a week. Fisk comes to visit him.

Matt was cold and alone. Nothing padded his bare, soft skin from the cold, concrete floor. It made his bones ache, made him hurt. The coldness in the building seeped into his marrow and wouldn’t let up. The rest of the prison buzzed around his awareness, seeming far away even though it was still quite close. 

Matt had never been so isolated before. Growing up in New York, he was always surrounded by a constant buzz of people. As a lawyer his days had been filled with conversation, with friends, clients, Foggy… Karen. Days spent strategizing over how to win a case. Nights he spent as Daredevil, moving through the city that had a life of its own, feeling the night air and the dark whispers of both good and bad people from Hell’s Kitchen. He’d felt so alive, jumping from building to building, flying through the air, relying on his instinct and his near supernatural perceptions. The city that had felt so alive had guided him, she wasn’t always nice to him, but she was always there for him. 

But now… he felt dead. The cold concrete that flayed his skin felt like he was in a corpse. Death, stagnation, rot. No movement. Confinement. His skin naked and vulnerable to the dank air of the cell. Matt was blind, so for him was darkness, but he could hear the light overhead and knew that for 24 hours a day, he was naked and exposed to a camera watching him from the corner of his solitary cell. 

It rankled him to think that the Kingpin would be watching him as he sat, huddled up in the corner of the cell. Matt had drank very little and eaten next to nothing, only the two slices of bread and carton of milk they allowed him for lunch each day. Some days they brought him dinner, others breakfast. Sometimes he got three meals a day, sometimes none. Matt never knew. If he’d had regular meal times, Matt may have been able to keep track of the days more vividly. 

He was aware of the routines of the prison and that helped him keep track. Only for a week though. After seven days, Matt hadn’t been able to handle it and had stopped counting. At least he’d stopped counting for a few hours, around lunchtime. But before dinner that day, at least he thought was a day when he worked it out logically, he’d started and stopped counting so many times that it felt suddenly he’d been there a month. He’d always been there, and always would be. His mind had stopped and he’d had a quick mental breakdown. It all had happened in his head, a hallucination of the distortion of time. Matt trapped in infinity, infinitely keeping track of the prison routines like a person watching an ant farm. Matt wasn’t part of it except for when they brought him meals. 

Except for the Kingpin occasionally viewing the footage of Matt’s unfortunate situation. Most of them didn’t say much, didn’t mock Matt, only murmured the occasional rumors about Daredevil. 

“He’s only a man after all,” they’d say, their voices dripping with pity.. 

“He’s a lot smaller than Daredevil, is this really him?” 

“His eyes man, staring off into the void.” 

“I used to be a fan of Daredevil.” 

“Is this really him? He doesn’t look like a super hero.”

“Now he’s nothing but the Kinpin’s fucktoy.” 

“He’s cute though.” 

“I’d fuck him.”

“I kinda feel bad for him.” 

“Best not to think about it. Kingpin’ll take care of him.” 

Matt tried to tune their conversations out. He wished he’d had a thicker skin, but their words cut him. Their pity wounded hm most of all. Matt would have felt better had the comments been as mean and callous as what the playground kids used to taunt him with. “Daredevil, Daredevil! You’re as much of a loser as your old man!” 

Yes, the cruelty would have been easier to stomach. At least then, he could feel justified in his rage towards them. His desire to do violence, to rip them apart. That would have felt better. 

But the pity, and the disappointment - that was unbearable. 

He longed to see Wilson Fisk again. He imagined in his head over and over what he would say to the man. The insults he would toss. How defiant he would be. Fisk may have the power to hurt him right now, but he wouldn’t get what he wanted out of Matt. Matt would resist, would fight, would taunt him…! He’d find a way to get under Fisk’s skin! He’d rebuild his strength and fight the Kingpin again, beat him into the ground. 

The man would never touch him again. 

Matt couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Remembering Wilson’s fat cock pressing deeply into him. Matt able to feel his blood coursing through his skin, the calm strong heartbeat that seemed to beat against Matt’s chest as Wilson’s flesh pounded into him. That spot inside Matt, his prostate, stimulated by Fisk’s cock, pressing against it, and like some magical power FIsk knowing exactly where to hit and when. 

Matt had come, had orgasmed, had experienced a peak of pleasure greater than any he’d had before. Matt was no blushing virgin - he’d had sex with women. But nobody had touched that spot in him. Matt had never had anything up his ass. He’d been so busy being Daredevil, so busy running around at night, busy studying during the day that he hadn’t had much time to think of sex. Except when it came tumbling into his lap, the women who were so eager to come home with him. But Matt never spent much time with them. And it didn’t happen nearly as often as Foggy seemed to think. Matt just sort of game him the impression he was right so that he didn’t ask too many questions about Matt’s nighttime activities. Matt hadn’t overtly lied to Foggy or anything, or intentionally made himself look like a player. But because of the way women fawned over Matt, it was an easy assumption. 

What would Foggy think about him if Matt told him the truth? “I don’t actually have much sex because I spend most of my time running over rooftops and getting the shit beat out of me?” 

And now he had the memory of Wilson’s cock. The memory of that invasive medical inspection, the nurse violating him as Fisk watched and grew aroused. Fisk violating him further, with his tongue no less. Wilson’s hand coming down hard on his ass. 

How had that happened? How had he’d let that happen?

Couldn’t he have fought? 

His thoughts raced and he wavered from anger to guilt. Rage at Fisk for doing it and fear and shame and loathing at the thought that he’d simply let it happen. 

He’d never report it. Even though there was now video evidence of it. Everything Matt knew about the law seemed to be thrown out the window now. Fisk had once again perverted the justice system. He was a cancer on the city. 

He needed to be eliminated. 

Matt warred with himself. Should he do it? Could he do it and confess his sins away to Father Lanton? But God would know. But wasn’t it okay to kill Fisk?

If there was a God, why would he leave Matt alone and isolated and naked in a cell and eating his food from a tray that a cockroach had crawled across ten minutes ago. 

The prison was dirty. It smelled bad. The sounds were unpleasant. Matt missed his record player. 

Wilson Fisk was on his way to see him. Wilson Fisk was coming down the hall. 

Matt’s heart raced in anticipation as he listened to their footsteps, narrowing in on Wilson’s, smelling the soap he’s used in his shower that morning. The omelet the kitchen had made specially for him. The smell of freshly made coffee on his breath. 

In contrast, Matt hadn’t showered the entire time he’d been in here. And how long had that been? Nine days? A month. He wasn’t sure. But maybe it was nine days. 

Matt thought of how warm Wilson’s hands would feel on his skin. No, he shouldn’t be thinking about that. He might kill Wilson Fisk. Unless God forbid it. Unless God wanted him to suffer? Wanted him to be crushed beneath Fisk’s boot. 

God can go fuck himself. 

Matt would never submit. 

He’d confess to Father Lantom when he got out of here. And he would get out of here. 

They opened the door and Fisk entered alone. Matt didn’t bother to get up. Staying put seemed the more dignified move. 

Wilson stared down at him for a good, long moment. “It wasn’t my intention to keep you here this long.” 

Matt grunted. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Did Wilson sound like he cared? 

Wilson took a knee, so he could bring his face level with Matt’s. “I can’t stand to see even an enemy like you in such a state. So flimsy and weak.” 

“You think I couldn’t strangle you if I wanted to?” Matt bluffed, wanting to feel dangerous even though he wasn’t sure he could even raise his arms. Matt didn’t know if it was lack of motivation or lack of strength. He didn’t want to think about it. 

Wilson reached out and grabbed Matt’s dick, squeezing it painfully. Matt’s face contorted into an expression of agony and shock. 

“I think we both know you won’t lay a finger on me.” There was a menacing, deadly edge to Wilson’s voice. 

“Okay,” Matt said. “Why?” There was a lot behind that why. Why did you fuck me? Why don’t you just kill me now?

Wilson was more perceptive than Matt had given him credit for. “You’re a symbol in this city, Mr. Murdoch. A valuable part of it. Unusually gifted. I’d hate to see your skills, your… special talents go to waste, Matthew. You need me. You need me to take you under my wing.” 

“That’s bullshit.” Matt didn’t need anybody. 

“You’re alone, Matt. Your friends don’t understand why you do what you do. They don’t understand how much you crave the pain.” Wilson squeezed Matt’s cock harder, making Matt wince in pain. 

Matt moaned as his cock twitched in interest. 

“You need to be controlled, Matthew. By somebody stronger than you. Someone who can reign you in.” Wilson ran his thumb up and down Matt’s cock, which was quickly filling out. Even in Matt’s current dilapidated state, his cock got hard at Wilson’s touch, needing hardly any stimulation. Wilson’s grip relaxed now, simply holding his cock and rubbing his thumb up and down it. Matt’s cock felt small in Fisk’s large, meaty hand. Fisk made him feel small, made him feel like jello, he couldn’t resist the man. 

“You will obey me,” Fisk said. 

“I won’t…” 

Fisk’s hand tightened and Matt lost it. The simple touch wrestling the orgasm from him so easily. This is wrong. He was ashamed. HIs semen spilled weakly over Fisk’s hand. 

Fisk went to the sink and promptly rinsed it off. He turned back to Matt and stared down at him. “You’re coming with me now.” 

“I’d rather stay here.” He really didn’t though. Even Fisk’s presence was better than the deadening isolation. The corpse of loneliness. He needed someone. And Fisk was warm. His had been warm and Matt craved it. 

“I’ll take care of you.” 

“No need.” 

“You need a shower.”

“Is it a warm shower?” Matt asked, unable to contain his interest. 

“Get up.” 

“I don’t think I can.” Would he be sharing a cell again with Fisk? Danger. Real danger. He shouldn’t get up. 

“Try.” 

Matt did. He pushed himself to his feet, shivering as he stood there naked and vulnerable. He thought about how he might look intimidating, or at the least nonchalant…. Like, yeah he was naked and vulnerable, but was too cool, too strong to give a shit. 

But he did give a shit. “Can I have some clothes?”

Fisk motioned to a guard outside. The guard brought a fresh jumpsuit for Matt and a pair of socks and shoes. He gave them to Fisk. Fisk held them and presented them to Matt, in such a way that made it clear these clothes were coming from Fisk. Matt should refuse them. 

But where would that leave him? He took the clothes and put them on, not caring that Fisk was lording over him the whole time. After being naked for so long, the fabric felt coarse and abrasive over his skin. But it was warmer and gave him protection from the chill he still hadn’t shook. The cold seemed to radiate off him. He thought about the warm shower. 

“Is the shower warm?” he asked. He caught himself too late as he realized that Fisk now knew what Matt wanted and could torture him in these small ways. Was his life controlled by Fisk now? 

He’d find a way out of it. 

“I can arrange for a hot shower. Maybe even better. All you have to do is ask, Mr. Murdock.” Fisk’s voice was strangely calm and assuring. What was he doing now? Trying to show Matt how powerful he was? Of course that’s what he was doing. 

“Okay, a hot bath with scented candles then.” 

“Consider it done.” 

“In a prison?” 

“Come with me.”

Matt wanted to hesitate. He thought about giving Wilson a beat down. Maybe he could fight his way out of the prison? Through Wilson, through the guards, through the prisoner. Maybe he could or maybe he’d die trying. 

He promised Foggy and Karen he would serve his sentence, he’d be good, Foggy would fight for him to get out early. It had horrified him the thought of being in prison, but he’d been caught, called out as Daredevil and now had to face the justice system as all the people he’d defended had. He just never thought it would happen to him. 

He hadn’t realized how horrible it would feel. 

He followed Fisk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt finds himself swept off to Fisk's hidden mansion in the snowy wastelands of the Arctic.

With the orange jump suit on, Matt felt better. More confident suddenly. He could do this, he could get out of this. As he moved to leave the room, he threw a surprise punch at the guard. The guy went down and Matt turned to throw a punch at Wilson, who deftly moved out of the way. A guard behind him tackled him, knocking Matt to the ground. 

Had Wilson been fighting him, Matt would have been toast. But as it was, Fisk stood back, away from the fighting as six more guards poured into the room, piling on top of Matt. Matt kneed one in the stomach and flipped him into the others, knocking at least three of them down. One came up behind him and trapped his arms. Matt easily slipped out of his grasp, kneeling on the floor and punching him in the balls. The guard fell in pain, over Matt, and Matt flipped him into the next guard who charged at him. 

Matt didn’t know where the three who just jumped him came from. One minute, he was throwing a punch, the other three men were piled on top of him, their weight so heavy Matt suffocated, unable to pull in a breath. 

Matt let out a groan of pain, pulled every last resource out of himself, and yanked and twisted and punched and kicked his way out from the bottom of the pile. There were at least twelve guards in the small cell by now, at least six of them incapacitated. Matt sucker punched one who went out like a light, roundhouse kicked another and then simply threw his weight on the next, landing with his elbow hard on the guy’s neck. 

The last one charged at Matt, who lifted his leg into a lazy kick and sent the guy sprawling and hitting his head hard on the floor. 

Matt panted, sensing all twelve guards incapaciated now. An alarm going off and the prison going into a lockdown. And through all the franticness and chaos, there was one steady heartbeat. So steady it was like a clock. Wilson Fisk did not participate in the fighting, he had simply observed. 

Simply waited for Matt to tire what little energy he had out on the prison guards. 

“You’re wasting time,” Fisk said. 

Matt was about to retort, when suddenly he was laying on the ground, held down by Wilson’s heavy boot on his chest. 

“Even now, you refuse to give up,” he said softly. “I admire that.” Fisk bent down and picked Matt up, throwing him over his shoulder. Matt was too tired and too hurt to move. Maybe if he’d been better fed, had more time to recover, maybe then he would’ve won this fight. 

“It’s why I haven’t killed you yet,” Fisk continued. He carried Matt down the a series of corridors, empty of guards, through dark hallways lit only by red emergency lights. He arrived on top of the roof where there was a helicopter waiting for him.

Men in suits ran towards them, taking Matt from Fisk’s shoulders and hauling him aboard the chopper. They threw Matt unceremoniously to the floor on his back. 

Fisk looked down at him. “You don’t need to be awake for this part.” And punched him in the face, knocking him out cold. 

Darkness. 

Fear. 

Hearts beating. 

Something rough against his skin. 

Something crackles. 

It’s fire. 

It’s warmth slowly seeped the cold out of his bones. 

He doesn’t feel too bad. He feels like he’s floating. 

There are drugs in his system. 

There’s a slow and steady heartbeat watching him. Something cold against his wrists… Both cool and hot air blowing against his bare skin. 

They’re not in New York. The air pressure, the temperature all indicated they were in a higher altitude. Matt hadn’t left New York since a single vacation he’d taken with Elektra in college, but his senses told him they were somewhere else. Somewhere far. 

“Where are we?” Matt asked Wilson Fisk, who lounged in a well stuffed armchair. He puffed on a cuban cigar and quietly watched the blind lawyer struggle to grapple with the situation he was in. Chains criss crossed Matt’s bare chest, sitting uncomfortably cold against his skin. More chains wrapped around his wrists, binding them securely together against the small of his back. 

His cock hung limp and exposed over his thigh. Matt was hogtied, more chains wrapping around his exposed feet, forcing him into a fetal position. He tried to push himself up, but his head swam and it felt more comfortable to lay his head back down. Might as well be comfortable as he figured out how to loosen the chains so he could punch the smugness right off the Kingpin’s face. 

“Why am I here?” Matt demanded, struggling. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Matt shouted, more frantic now as the situation dawned on him. He was now chained naked and laying on a fur rug between a fireplace and the man who had fucked him what seemed now like eons ago. 

And they were now on some snowy hilltop in a big mansion, located God-knows where. Alone with Wilson Fisk on a bear fur rug. Matt saw where this was going and decided he would jump out the window and plummet to his death before allowing the man to touch him again. 

But still Wilson wouldn’t answer. Only sat there puffing his cigar and sipping some elderberry tea sweetened by two cubes of sugar. Matt estimated they were somewhere North of Canada. Maybe Matt would have guessed better if he’d traveled more. If he hadn’t spent so much of his life never leaving Hell’s Kitchen. 

Matt struggled to sit upright, managing to get to his knees, but the chains made it hard and he ended up on his knees and hunched over, forced in some subservient posture at Wilson’s feet. He faced Wilson and looked up at him with unseeing eyes, imploring the crime lord to say something. 

Wilson blew the smoke out through his teeth and put his cigarette out onto a glass ashtray, taking his time about it. He sighed and laid back, looking at Matthew. 

After a quiet moment in which only the icy wind outside could be heard, Wilson ran his hand through Matt’s hair. 

“It doesn’t have to be like this. If you would obey me, Matthew. I know it’s fruitless to ask.” Wilson ran his fingers down Matt’s face, caressing him gently, and then gripped his jaw with fingers so strong they were like being caught in an iron vice. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Matt says through gritted teeth. 

“You’ll try.” 

“Some day you’ll die! And I’ll be the one to do it.” 

“Idle threats from a man in chains.” Fisk let go of Matt’s jaw and Matt fell back over onto his side. 

“Fuck you!” Matt shouted. 

Fisk pushed Matt over with his slippered foot, placing it over Matt’s lower belly. Matt was breathing hard, his eyes wild and vacant, his lower belly fluttering and unable to get enough air to calm him down. His blood pressure was up and Matt wanted to fight. But all he did was strain against unyielding chains and a softly slippered foot until he tired himself out once again. 

He laid his head on the floor, resigned. “What do you want from me, Fisk?” 

“Your willing cooperation.” 

Matt groaned and pressed his forehead against the marble tile of the floor. It was so cold it nearly gave him brain freeze. “What, am I supposed to willingly jump into your bed? Let you have me any way you want?”

“Hmm, that would be a start.”

“You’re out of your mind.” 

“No, Matthew.” Fisk leaned forward and ran a warm hand down Matt’s chest. “You’re fighting a losing battle. You’ve been in solitary for too long.” Fisk pushed himself off the chair and got onto all fours, hovering over Matt, trapping the blind lawyer beneath him. Fisk lowered his head and placed a warm kiss on the vigilante’s cheek. “You need a warm touch.” 

“No! I need nothing!” Matt turned his face into the floor and collapsed in on himself. He looked attractive, bound up as he was in the chains. Attractive and helpless. “Just… please… If you’re going to kill me, just do it already.” 

“You know I’m not going to do that.” Fisk sat up, resting his large body on Matt’s hips, pinning the smaller man down to the ground. “I’ve gone through too much trouble to get you here.” 

“No,” Matt said, uselessly. “Don’t do this, Fisk.” 

Wilson forcibly turned Matt’s face back towards his own as he hovered over him. “I’ve already done it. Even if you fight me, even if you escape, you’ll end up right back here, Matthew Murdock. I’ve decided that you’re mine and I’m smarter than you are. You’ll always lose. Know that.” 

“That’s not true!” 

“This is our natural position in the world. Men like me will always rise to the top. Men like you will try. But you’ll fall, destined for the gutters, placed in with the unwashed filth of the masses. You may shine for an instant, but it’s men like me who own your talent, Daredevil. Men like me who own you. It’s inevitable. There is no fighting it.”

“You may want to believe that, but it doesn’t make it true.” Matt scowled, refusing to buy into Fisk’s version of reality. The man was trying to brainwash him, to psyche him out, and Matt refused to let it work. “Fuck me all you want. Beat me. Whip me. Keep me in chains. I’ll take you down, Wilson. You’ll end up behind bars or in a coffin where you belong.” 

Wilson chuckled. “Such words from a blind lawyer. But they matter not. Time will tell and will show you who you really are and where you belong.” 

Matt twisted his entire body and shot his head up to bump Wilson right in the face. The big man fell back and Matt used what short momentum he had with his manacled feet and kicked the Kingpin in the shin. Unfortunately, Wilson stepped away, getting away from Matt easily since Matt couldn’t stand. He had two attacks in him and was out of moves unless Wilson got down on all fours again. But the man was laughing now and heading back to grab another cigar while Matt remained helplessly tied up on the floor. 

“Don’t you want a real fight?” Matt taunted. “Let me go and let’s do this fair.” 

Wilson just chuckled, sat back down in his comfy armchair, and lit another cigar. “I have a proposition for you.” 

Matt listened. 

“I’ll let you out of your chains if you do something for me first.”

“I can’t do anything for you tied up.”

“I think you can manage this.” 

“What?”

“I want to use your mouth.” 

“What?!” 

“Your mouth, Matthew. Your best asset. You wield it quite powerfully in the courtroom and now I’d like those licentious lips of yours wrapped around my cock.” 

“What.. uh… Don’t you have Vanessa?” 

“I have you, Matthew. Tied up and at my mercy. I could just take what I want but I’d rather you do it willingly. You’re much less likely to choke that way.”

“This isn’t okay!” Matt protested, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t want to do this. Yet he could feel the heat of arousal pooling low in his belly. 

“Do it, Matthew. Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll ram my cock down your throat and leave you chained and nothing but my own seed to warm your belly tonight.”

“I thought you were better than this!” 

“Do you think they call me the Kingpin because I am a saint, Matthew? I’m not religious like you, but under any divine order, I would be at the top while you, even as Daredevil, merely nip at my heels, hoping for scraps.” Wilson grabbed the chains crossing Matt’s chest and yanked him to his knees. He spread his legs and pulled Matt between them, so that Matt’s face rested against the tight bulge in Wilson’s white pants. 

“I… I can’t,” Matt weakly protested. 

“I’ll help you.” Wilson undid his pants, pushing down his briefs and freeing his massive cock from their tight enclosure. Matt couldn’t see it, but he could sense the size of it. He remembered how big it had felt pressing into him, splitting him open. “Do this, Matthew, and I’ll let you out of those chains. Then you’ll have a chance to fight. You won’t win, but you can try. But first--” He pulled Matt’s face closer, so that his nose pressed up against Wilson’s cock. 

“You’re too big,” Matt protested. 

“You’re a lawyer, You can manage.” 

“And then you’ll free me?”

“From the chains. It’s the only chance you have.”

Matt pressed forward, feeling Fisk’s cock with the tip of his nose, running it up the shaft til he got to the tip, just gauging the size of the Kingpin’s cock. When he gets to the top, he hovers his mouth over it, letting the cock’s tip graze his lips and then he kissed it. 

“There you go,” Fisk murmured. Matt darted his tongue out, licked the top. “Good boy,” Fisk praised. 

Matt licked around the mushroom shaped tip, wetting it with his tongue before placing his lips over it and sucked lightly, as if on a lolly pop. Fisk was clean and had used some natural, gentle, nicely smelling soap that Matt couldn’t identify. Fisk’s body and clothes were impossibly clean. Matt hadn't noticed before, had tried not to notice how good Fisk smelled. How fresh and clean. His cock was smooth and tasted like a gentle breeze. 

Matt took more of Wilson’s cock into his mouth, listening to the small hitches in the Kingpin’s breath as he enjoyed the pleasure of Matt’s mouth. He pulls off to say, “I hope you keep your word.”

Wilson smirked and ran his hands through Matt’s tousled hair. “I couldn’t control you if I didn’t.”

Matt ignored the overly fond tone as much as he could. It disturbed him and sent shivers down his spine. Once more he closed his mouth over the head of Fisk’s cock, taking as much of it into his mouth as he could. It was too much for him. Thick and too long, like he was putting his mouth over some unyielding monolith. 

“Yes, it’s going to take some work, Matthew.” Fisk took pleasure in the sight of the lawyer struggling with the size of his cock. “Make me come in your mouth and I’ll free you.”

Matt’s heart sunk as he realized this wasn’t going to be easy. He’d have to put effort into it and he loathed the idea of putting so much effort into pleasuring Wilson Fisk. 

Just as he considers giving up and stubbornly refusing to continue, Wilson said, “If you stop, I’ll pick you up and see how you sound bouncing on my cock.”

Matt sank his mouth back down. He bobbed his head up and down on Fisk’s cock, letting the tip hit the back of his throat. After a while, he relaxes enough to go a little further but still he barely fit Fisk’s cock in. He pulls out and runs his lips down the shaft, trying to estimate how much he took into his mouth. Half. He took half and he couldn’t use his hands to get the other half. 

Fisk seemed to take more pleasure out of watching Matt than he did from Matt’s mouth. While it felt good, he wasn’t even near coming. 

Matt sucks and bobs and licks Fisk’s cock for what feels like an indelible amount of time. He would never be able to wash the taste of Fisk’s meaty cock out of his mouth. His jaw ached and he was panting. His own cock was hard and bobbing pathetically as he worked on Fisk. 

Fisk himself still sat calmly, his heart barely missing a beat, speeding up only a small amount from Matt’s efforts. 

Matt pulled back and sat back on his heels. “I can’t do it. How do I… make you cum?”

“Hmmm. You have been putting in quite the effort, Mr. Murdock. The very quality that makes you such a good lawyer.” Fisk licked his lips and steepled his hands, loving the sight of the blind lawyer kneeling between his legs, his lips puffy, cheeks and chest flushed. The little lawyer’s cock was hard - he truly did get off on being subservient. Something Fisk had assumed about him even before he thought of getting the lawyer into his bed. 

“Shall I make myself come then? I’m afraid it might choke you a bit.” Fisk leaned forward and tugged Matt’s head back, sliding his cock past the lawyer’s pliant lips. “Do I have your permission to fuck your mouth, Matthew Murdock?” 

Matt grunted in acknowledgement and relaxed himself, prepared for Fisk’s onslaught. Fisk grabbed the sides of Matt’s face and thrust his cock into Matt’s throat so hard he nearly choked. Before he could even catch his breath, Fisk continued, ramming hard and jackhammering into his mouth, choking him and cutting off his breath. Fisk had somehow shoved his cock so far down Matt’s throat, that his pubic hair tickled Matt’s nose. Fisk continued, thrusting slow and hard down Matt’s throat. Matt was suffocating and was close to passing out, but Fisk was quick about it and soon was spilling his hot seed straight down Matt’s throat. Matt swallowed on instinct, the muscles in the back of his throat closing and clamping down around the tip of Fisk’s cock. HIs semenn spilled down Matt’s throat and pooled hotly into his belly. 

He let go of Matt and let him collapse back on to the balls of his feet. Matt drew in a quick breath and choked and coughed. Slobber ran down his chin and leaked off, dropping onto Matt’s painfully hard cock. It was then that Matt felt how hard he was and how badly he wanted relief. He bit his lip and moaned. 

“Matthew,” Fisk said, leaning forward and taking Matt’s cock into his hand. Matt’s cock seemed smaller in FIsk’s hand, smaller still when Fisk ran his thumb down it, just as he’d done back in Matt’s solitary cell. “Instead of unchaining you, I could finish you off.” 

Matt whined, so close to coming in Fisk’s hand already. “Oh, no... “ Matt bucked his hips and Fisk’s hand squeezed. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Fisk said smugly, contracting his hand in such a way that Matt instantly lost it. His cock contracted powerfully and the orgasm ripped through him unwillingly, and ocean tide being released. 

“Oh fuck no…!” Matt moaned. “I didn’t agree to this…” 

Fisk continued stroking him, making Matt whimper and moan from his overstimulated cock. “I can’t! No more… no more… oh God, no more…!” 

“Yes, Matthew. Beg me. Beg me to stop.” 

“Mmm… mm, please… please….”

“Please, sir,” Fisk corrected. 

Matt made a peep, a shocked moan, and then whimpered in resignation. “Please, sir.”

Wilson kissed him on the lips, pressed his tongue into Matt’s mouth. Matt didn’t resist, didn’t pull away. Wilson moved his lips in an experienced and sensual manner. The man knew how to kiss and Matt was momentarily swept away. Fisk put a hand on his waist and pulled Matt close against his body and kissed him passionately. 

The kiss was interrupted by Fisk pulling Matt onto his lap. The chains still hung heavily over Matt’s bare skin. He longed to be free. “Please untie me, Fisk. Please…” His head droops forward onto Fisk’s shoulder. 

Fisk runs his hands up Matt’s side, rubbing from his bare ass, down his thigh, up his back, warming and massaging him at the same time. “Soon, Matthew. Soon. I’ll make you feel good.” 

He runs his hand up Matt’s side, up to his neck and cups his jaw, bringing Matt’s face back to his own and closes in the kiss, locking his lips over the smooth lawyer’s and breaking Matt’s defenses with his tongue, claiming his mouth once more. 

They sit there like that for a long time, Fisk softly kissing Matt. Matt not resisting, letting it happen, letting himself enjoy the warmth of the other man’s body. 

“I’m gonna fuck you again, soon,” Fisk whispered. 

Matt sighed and said nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt attempts a valiant escape. Fisk throws a party.

“This is what I promised you. Back in the prison.” Matt jumped at the sound of Fisk’s voice. Even though he knew the other man was still there, Matt had let himself drift off, almost falling asleep in the huge bathtub. 

He was still chained, of course. But the water was hot -- almost too hot -- but to Matt it felt good. It burned him in a way that reminded him he was still alive. 

“Regardless of what you may believe, I do keep good on my promises.” Fisk’s footsteps rang out in the bathroom. He had changed from lounge clothes to a sharp suit. Matt could smell the fabric. Wool and the scent of Fisk’s expensive cologne. Matt could still smell the walls of the prison on him, though. Fisk may swath himself in luxury, in the finest of silks and scents, but he couldn’t hide the scent of blood and of concrete picked up by Matt’s sensitive nose. 

“You’re going to take these chains off then? This could have been a much better bath,” Matt said, doing his best to criticize everything Fisk did. “I’m surprised you didn’t splurge on beeswax candles. Those are better, you know. I hate the smell of soy.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” Fisk was annoyed. That made Matt happy. 

“There’s not gonna be a next time.” Now Matt was annoyed. 

Fisk smirked happily. “I do make good on my promises.” 

“You keep saying that.” 

“I’ll unchain you. I even have clothes for you.” 

“How generous,” Matt said flatly, irritated at how Fisk acted as if Matt should be grateful, should appreciate Fisk treating him at all like a human being. 

“You’ll get one chance, Matthew.” Fisk came and sat on the edge of the tub. He stared down at the bubbled water and ran his fingers over the surface. Matt could feel the vibrations from the water hit his skin and had the phantom impression of Fisk running his hands over Matt’s skin. Matt gasped at the way the water tickled him. “Don’t… don’t do that…”

Fisk raised an eyebrow and ran his hand over the water once more, not about to listen to Matt. But he watched the lawyer intensely. “What must it be like to be so sensitive in such a brutal world?” he wondered aloud. “You’re quite reactive, Mr. Murdock.” 

Matt shifted uncomfortably and made an effort to turn his face and his body away from Fisk. Maybe giving him the cold shoulder would make him go away. He didn’t want to discuss his enhanced senses to Fisk or answer the usual insipid questions people had about what it was like to be blind. Or worse. Pity him. 

“You’re emotional. It’s why you’re such a good lawyer,” Fisk stated. 

“Is that what you think?”

“I know it.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I know something about you, Matthew.” Fisk dipped his hand into the water, not caring that his suit was getting wet. He found Matt’s cock beneath the water and wrapped his meaty fingers around it. It took only about ten strokes and Matt squirming before his cock filled out and got hard. Matt had tried to resist, but his body had responded. 

“You don’t know anything.”

“You so badly want to believe that.” Satisfied, Fisk removed his hand and stood up. “I’ve got to change now and so do you.” He grabbed the chains that crossed Matt’s chest and lifted him up and out of the water like Matt weighed no more than a suitcase. 

He unlocked and undid the chains, leaving Matt laying in a heaping puddle on the bathroom floor. Matt listened to Fisk’s footsteps as he left the bathroom. “The clothes are on the bed, Matthew. I thought you deserved a chance to fight your way out. Don’t say I don’t keep my promises, Mr. Murdock.” 

Matt laid there a moment longer, listening to Fisk disappear and move to a completely different part of the mansion. Matt darted to his feet, not wanting to waste a second. He grabbed for a towel and frantically dried himself off, moving as he did out of the bathroom and towards the bed to the clothes Fisk had mentioned. 

He continued drying off in a hurry as he felt out for the clothes. A long sleeved shirt. Black. Black pants. Boots… Mask. Muay Thai ropes… His black outfit… The one he wore fighting crime. How had Fisk gotten it? He picked it up and smelled it, but the clothes were definitely the same ones he’d worn in Hell’s Kitchen. He could still smell Hell’s Kitchen on them. The blood of all his past fights. 

He put them on quickly. He felt more like himself again. He was no longer a prisoner. No longer Fisk’s chained prisoner. He was himself again. Once more his body was his own. He put his mask on, finding a reassuring comfort in the way the soft fabric covered the top of his head, concealed his identity. Turned him from blind lawyer Matt Murdock into Daredevil. Into someone far more brave and daring than his day time identity. 

Matt thought about what Fisk had said before he left… About giving him a chance to fight his way out. He knew it would be some kind of trick. And yet he still wouldn’t pass up the opportunity. He couldn’t. He had no desire to end up chained and naked at Fisk’s feet again. 

With is radar sense, he felt around for a way out. The floor to ceiling windows were almost a foot thick of some kind of unbreakable glass, behind which Matt assumed was a stunning view of the snowy landscape. He found an emergency exit hooked up to an alarm that would go off when Matt opened the door. 

He stepped out onto the balcony, expecting to find stairs, but they had crumbled long ago and been replaced by a rickety bridge that seemed to Matt to cross a courtyard and go to a wall beyond. Perhaps that was a way out of this compound? 

Matt sensed a few guards inside and outside the compound. He ducked before they could see him, hiding behind the stone balcony. 

Below, he sensed two large heavy heartbeats that didn’t sound human. They were something much bigger. Matt sensed Fisk on his way back to the bedroom. He took the risk and started across the rickety bridge. 

“Hey! You! Stop!” A guard shouted. Machine guns opened fire. Matt thought this was it for him. One of the bullets hit the bridge next to his foot while another zoomed past his ear, temporarily affecting his hearing and balance. Matt fell backwards and hit the ground, rolling to reduce the impact. He got to his feet, dizzy and unsteady, fell back for an instant before regaining his balance and booking it across the courtyard. He sensed where the door was, sensed the two guards manning it and ran towards them. 

Before he could get there, a massive weight hits him, a flurry of snow and fur, a thick, heavy heart beat, and suddenly Matt is being mauled by a massive polar bear. 

It tries to wrap its heavy jaws over Matt’s face, but Matt rolls out from beneath it the moment it gets to its feet. Matt starts running again, but the bear bit him in the shoulder and threw him against the wall and roared. Matt’s heart beat in his chest at the sound of the roar. He had never encountered such a huge bear before. 

The bear was nearly as bit as Fisk. Okay, bigger than Fisk, but the ganglord loomed large in Matt’s mind. The second bear dove its heavy body into the first one. Rescue! It left Matt free to dart for the gate, flipping up to the top as he sensed a narrow opening just big enough for him to slide his body through. He landed on the two guards and took them out quietly and efficiently. 

He sensed a snowmobile nearby, felt out with his internal radar and retrieved the keys from one of the guards. He sensed three more on their way towards him, their comms squelching noisily against the sound of wind whipping over a snow capped forest. 

He hopped onto the snowmobile and started up the ignition, taking off and pounding on the breaks. Matt wasn’t a very experienced driver, but luckily his super senses helped guide him. He followed a long driveway, passed what he sensed were helicopters, though it was hard to tell when the engines weren’t powered on. To him they were like dead machines. 

He could hear the three other snowmobiles hot on his heels, with at least a dozen more behind them. Machine gun fire burst, tearing up the ground around him, and hitting the back of his vehicle. Luckily the bullets hadn’t yet hit any serious parts. Matt veered off the road and into an empty space he only realized when it was too late was a frozen lake bed. But it was okay, he sensed more forest on the other side. 

The snow drivers lit up the ice with their machine gun fire, sending cracks in the snow, tearing it up and making Matt’s ears ring. Some of the bullets hit his snowmobile and he lost control, veering off and crashing his vehicle into a rock. Matt leapt off the bike before it exploded in a fiery bang. 

“There he is! Fisk wants him alive, but hurt him if you need to!” 

Oh fuck. Matt pushed himself to his feet and ran. The men surrounded him, trapping him in a circle with their snowmobiles. They drove ominously around him and pulled out a net, intending to trap him with it. They threw it at him, but Matt caught it in his hands and flipped it around sending it flying into the mobiles behind him and knocking them all off. 

Matt then dived at one of the men on a bike and knocked him off, sending him flying into the snow as Matt punched furiously. Two more jumped on his back and Matt back flipped and kicked them in the head. He threw one of the men under a moving snowmobile and sent it careening and crashing into the ice, breaking it with a loud CRACK. The mobile dipped into the water. The man on top of it screamed as cold water licked at him and took him under. 

Five more men attacked Matt, one even tried to run him over with the snowmobile, but Matt dodged and jumped around and punched him in the face. Matt felt tired and weak but he forced himself to keep going. To keep using his body like a weapon, punching the men who surrounded him. He kept his fists fighting until the men were down, bloodied and unconscious, their heartbeats faint. 

Matt panted and inhaled the cold frozen air. He was out of breath and his lungs were burning. But he forced himself to walk across the ice. Just to reach the other side. He might die out here. And so far away from home too. He always thought he’d die in Hell’s Kitchen. Maybe from Fisk. Maybe from a tweaker in some dark alley getting the surprise on him and shanking him in the back. It seemed like the awful death Matt often thought he deserved. 

But he wasn’t dead yet. He trudged forward through thick and heavy snow, sensing out into the wasteland a vast nothingness. He’d never experienced nature like this before. It was teeming with life, but it was all cold, with only faint, tiny heart beats he could sense from small animals. 

Matt crashed through the snowy forest, branches hitting him in the face, the wind whipping them and hitting him in the back. In this place it seemed even nature itself wanted to beat him into submission. 

He should have had a plan before finding his way out here. Or maybe he shouldn’t have even left the compound. But Fisk! That son of a bitch was going to pay for what he was doing to Matt. The man may have unlimited resources that wealth afforded, but Matt was determined. He would find a weakness and he would take the Kingpin down. 

He heard the sound of distant dogs barking. Matt stilled and listened. Fisk was sending out hunting parties. Men with dogs who would sniff him out. 

Matt redoubled his efforts. He needed shelter, needed to get out of the cold. His black outfit offered little protection from the wind whipped snow. He sensed something warm up ahead. Sensed large vehicles with warm engines -- the planes! Maybe Matt could steal one of the vehicles, make his way to one of the planes he’d passed on his way out, and fly his way out of here? But one problem. Matt couldn’t fly a plane. 

He’d worry about that later. 

He moved slowly through the forest and kept himself carefully concealed as he approached the camp. He sensed at least fifteen warm heart beats. Four making rounds around the camp - the guard shift. 

He narrowed in on the faint clink of keys. He waited in a secluded spot for two of the guards to pass and then jumped them. He took them down quickly and easily, careful not to make too much noise and alert the rest of the camp. He dragged their bodies deeper into the forest to hide them. He took one of their jackets. “Sorry, man,” he murmured feeling bad that he might be leaving one of them to die from exposure. But right now Matt was worried about his own hide. 

He took the jacket, the radio comms, and a pair of dark oakley ballistic glasses. Perfect. 

The radio squelched, painfully loud in his ear. 

“Daredevil is out in the forest and Mr. Fisk wants him alive. Keep your eyes open. I’ve heard he’s a tricky bastard.” Matt listens quietly as they talk about him like he was some demonic menace hiding in the forest. 

Matt sneaked around the camp and waited for two more guards to be on their own. He took them down and hid their bodies under snow and brush. One of them had a pair of keys which Matt took and hoped it was for one of the vehicles. 

He hid behind some crates as a group of three more guards came by. “He’s sending reinforcements,” one of them was saying. “Do not engage Daredevil if you see him. And get the prisoners ready for transport!” 

Prisoners? Matt’s heart sped up. He needed to help them if the Kingpin was keeping more prisoners like the way he’d kept Matt. Matt followed the trail of their communications, sensing three prisoners huddled in a tent with two guards. Matt had already taken out four of the guards and there were only eleven more… minus the three prisoners and that only left eight for him to fight… Plus they had orders not to kill him which would work in his advantage. 

Matt had faced worse odds than this. 

He sprang into action. A roundhouse kick and some furious punching took out the three. One of them was knocked out, another grabbed him from behind and Matt flipped him into the remaining one. 

Four more guards ran at him, and Matt fought three of them off. A fourth managed to catch him off guard and hit him in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle. Matt fell to his knees. The others beat down on him, four against one. Soon a fifth was joining. Matt counted to eight. He pushed himself to his feet, catching a leg and flipping the guy into the group. 

Matt was shoved up against the cold metal of a massive vehicle. A tank.They shoved his face up against the treads as they beat on him. Matt twisted and flipped and punched his way out, not stopping until his fists were wet with blood and the men were pummelled into the ground, alive but just barely. 

Matt’s muscles were screaming. He was cold and exhausted. But he had a duty. He had to rescue the prisoners and get them out of here. Get them all out of here. Besides, maybe one of them could fly a plane. 

He heads straight to the prisoner’s tent and bursts in. 

“You’re safe now! I’m here to rescue you!” he said. He could tell from their scents, their heartbeats, and their smaller frames that they were three women. They must have been human trafficked by Fisk! Used as sex slaves just as he’d used Matt. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m here to get you out of here.” Matt felt around the three girls, feeling the shackles on their wrists. He checked the keys he had taken off the guard and tested them in the lock. 

“Oooh, look here, a big strong man to save us,” a mocking, feminine. 

“Isn’t he handsome?”

Matt sat back on his knees, confused. “We have to… we have to get out of here now… before… before Fisk…” He hadn’t expected them to thank him profusely, but the mocking attitudes of the women confused him. Tipped him off that something was off. That maybe he’d fallen into a trap. 

His realization came too late. Suddenly, strands of supernatural hair wrapped around his chest and neck. “No!” Matt shouted. He pushed to his feet, kicking at the woman whose hair had suddenly sprang to life in such a deadly way. 

“Get him down!” the other woman shouts, punching him hard in the face. She had the strength of ten men. She was no ordinary woman. None of them were. Matt fought and struggled. The hair wrapped around him even more, pinning his arms to his sides. 

After an intense scuffle, the women had him pinned. The hair cut off his air, leaving him breathless and dizzy. He’d landed a few good punches on his assailants, but they won out in the end and Matt was sapped. 

How stupid he’d been to fall for such an obvious trap! 

A radio squelched. “We have him now. We’ll bring him right down.” The woman with the hair put down the radio and smirked down at him. “Such a fine specimen of a man,” she said. Her boot found its way to his chest and she stood on top of him, staring down. 

“Fisk wants him stripped naked,” she said. “We’ve got our hands full, girls.” The other two laugh, enjoying Matt’s helplessness. 

They take his mask off first. “So handsome. But… what’s wrong with your eyes? Snow blind, huh? Or just blind!” 

“He’s so cute. He’s got this lost, helpless look that makes me want to help him.” The woman kneels over him and runs her hand down his chest. She uses a knife to cut his shirt off him. Her hands are warm as she slides them softly over his belly. 

“Do you work for Fisk?” he grunted out, angry that he’d been tricked and humiliated in such a way. 

She slapped him. “Everyone on this island works for Mr. Fisk. Including you. So you better watch your tongue.” 

Matt struggled valiantly against the three mutant women as they stripped him down, mocking and laughing at him the entire time. Eventually, he’s wrapped up in the woman’s hair, his hands tied behind his back and ass up in the air. The women take their time admiring and touching him. 

“Look at this beautiful ass.” They run their hands over his ass and balls, playing with him, squeezing and pinching his most sensitive areas. 

“Stop,” Matt whimpered. He felt helpless and that made him angry. He squirms and manages to kick one of the women in the face. 

“You little bastard!” The strong one smacked him several times on the ass, giving him a spanking. 

“You like this, don’t you? Like getting your ass kicked? I see why Mr. Fisk wants you so bad. Who wouldn’t want such a prize.” 

“Let’s tie him up properly now. Complete with a bowtie, a gift for Mr. Fisk.” They used heavy rope around his wrists and ankles. Matt fought them the entire way, but he was no match for their gifts and the women succeeded in getting him hogtied in the thick rope. 

“No! Please don’t do this!” Matt shouted. 

They ignored his pleas. “Come on. We need to take him back to the compound now. Can’t keep Mr. Fisk waiting.” 

The strong one picks him up effortlessly and Matt feels like nothing to her but a piece of luggage. He’s freezing as they carry him naked through the cold to their vehicle. It’s a large helicopter with snow skis that can also fly. Spacious and warm on the inside. They set him in the back and throw a blanket over him before taking up their stations behind the controls. 

“How long we gotta do this, Macy?” Matt listens. The one with the hair was speaking. 

“As long as we need to,” Macy - not the strong one, not the one with the hair… Who was she? What was special about her? Their leader, Matt assessed. 

“Shut up.” The strong one was speaking. “The lawyer is listening.”

Matt made a noise of indignation and struggled against the ropes. The bottom of their vehicle was carpeted, but laying on his naked belly wasn’t comfortable, even with the blanket thrown over him. He shifted onto his side so his face was pointed at them, even if he couldn’t actually look at them, due to being blind. 

“What can he do? He’s not going to get out of here.” The one with the hair got up. She kicked him over and put her foot on his chest. Something she seemed to like doing. “Mr. Fisk is going to make him into his personal lap dog.” She dug her foot into his neck. “Isn’t that right?”

“Lay off him, Sal. He’s already gotta take Fisk’s fat cock, he doesn’t need your boot on his neck too.” The strong one. Matt hadn’t caught her name yet. 

“You got a soft spot for him, Jem? Think he’s cute, wanna steal him from Fisk, don’t you?” That was Macy speaking. 

Macy = their leader  
Sal = the one with the magic hair  
Jem = the strong one who had left his lip bloody and laid the most brutal smackdown on him

He sensed Jem roll her eyes. “I’m tempted.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone. “That’s the last thing I need is another male simp in my life.” 

“I can help you,” Matt spoke up, trying to find some angle to reason with them. 

“You can help yourself right onto Fisk’s lap, you dog.” Sal bent down and grabbed his face, squeezed his lips together. “I know exactly who you are, Murdock. Daredevil. We know who you are and we don’t need your devil tongue convincing us we need one thing or another.” She ran her hand down Matt’s belly, found his cock and squeezed it. “We already know what we want. And frankly, you ain’t it,” she spat in his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He didn’t know why he felt the need to apologize. Something in her tone sounded vengeful, like her dislike of Matt was personal. But Matt had never met any of these women and so had no clue what had earned him their ire. 

Sal went and sat back down in her chair, leaving Matt by himself down on the floor. He continued trying to get out of the rope. The rest of the ride was quiet, the women not saying anything. The vehicle was filled only with the sound of Matt struggling to get out of the ropes. The noises he made, hitches in his breath, a rise of hope and crushing disappointment as he failed over and over again. 

They landed the vehicle on the compound helipad. Matt knew it was the same one because he could sense the same cold airplanes. Only now there were more vehicles on it, warm ones like they had just landed. That meant Fisk had company. There were fifteen additional vehicles parked on the helipad. Fisk had a lot of company. 

They dismounted the vehicle and Jem wrapped the blanket around Matt and threw him over her shoulder. They passed a gauntlet of guards. Matt counted 32 armed mercenaries patrolling just the part of the compound the women took him through. There hadn’t been this many when Matt had escaped. 

The first night he was there with Fisk, it had only been the two of them in what Matt had thought then was just a simple mansion. But nothing about Fisk was simple. 

As the women took him through the compound, Matt caught scents of the goings on. He smelled rich people. Their expensive colognes, their clothes, their hair. The smell of liquor. Champagne. Celebration? Food. Several big turkeys and a pig. A big feast. 

A room full of half-drunk people patrolled by sober mercenaries armed to the teeth. What was Fisk doing? 

He sensed Fisk at the head of a big table, sitting fat like king. Matt sensed several familiar heartbeats and scents, but he hadn’t time to recall who they all were. Vanessa. By Fisk’s side. 

The room hushes as the women enter with Matt still unceremoniously slung over Jem’s shoulder. All breaths are held as Matt is carried in. Even blind, he can sense all the attention on himself. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you--” Fisk paused for dramatic effect. “The Daredevil himself.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun and games.

The room was frantic with the sound of drinks and murmured hushes, the rustle of party dresses, food was dropped along with the mouths that contained it. But nobody was more shocked, more surprised, than Matt himself. 

Jem carried him over a marble tiled floor all the way to where Wilson Fisk stood on a raised dais, Vanessa by his side. The smug looks on both their faces emanated from them, Matt didn’t need eyes to see the wild zeal in their eyes at Matt’s horrific situation. 

Jem dropped him to his knees in front of Fisk and whipped the blanket off, not allowing him a shred of dignity. Matt stared at the crowd with unseeing eyes that moved about in a lost way, Matt took it in, moving his head around to survey the room and take in the sounds, the details, his mind trying valiantly to piece it together and failing. Matt was utterly stunned. 

“Yes, here he is. Mister Murdock! Daredevil himself!” Fisk stepped forward and placed his heavy hand on Matt’s head, like one would a dog. “Here for your viewing pleasure.” Fisk’s fingers curled into Mat’s dark hair and gripped it. Matt winced in pain. 

Fisk tilted his head back and bent down, his voice heavy and wet in Matt’s ear. “Have anything you want to say, Murdock?” 

“Fuck you!” Matt spat definiantly. 

Fisk smirked and faced the crowd. “Not very clever. Not very smart. He’s a very stupid boy.” Fisk released his hair and smacked the back of his head. “Running around at night in pajamas, interfering in my operations. In our operations. Darting from one rooftop to the next as if his physical prowess gives him some divine right to interfere with the powerful. The ones with true power.” 

Fisk walked a circle around Matt. He sounded like a dictator rallying his fanatics as he spoke. The crowd boos at Matt, jeers. Their displeasure washed over Matt’s vulnerable body, his amplified senses overwhelmed with the wave of emotion in the room, the wave of hostility directed at him. He was more sensitive still without any clothing to block the unpleasant vibrations that came his way. He was an open nerve on that stage, bleeding as Wilson Fisk circled him like a shark in the water. 

“Matthew Murdock is a man with no power. A man who stays in the shadows, beating up muggers and saving kittens from trees. But what does he know? He plays by the rules handed down to him by a law made by men. He has no vision. He can’t make our city or our world a better place, so he spends his time ruining our plans to remake the world.” 

A guard stepped on stage to put a knife in Wilson’s hand. Wilson held it up so the audience could see it. “Yes, Matthew Murdock is a nuisance who deserves to die.” Wilson turned to Matt and slid the knife’s tip lightly up the lawyer’s chest. 

Matt held his breath as Fisk played the knife over his sensitive skin. He thought any moment the man would plunge it into his heart. The audience seemed to think so too considering how many of them were also holding their breaths, eager for whatever came next. 

“But I won’t kill him tonight.” Wilson removed the knife from Matt’s neck and moved away. “I won’t kill him for a long while. Because he’s a vigilante. There will always be more where he comes from. Kill him and someone else will take his place. We need something different, ladies and gentlemen. We need to ruin him for all to see. To cast him in the light he has cast us.” 

“And to do that,” Wilson took a fistful of Matt’s hair and yanked his head back painfully. Matt's breath came in fast and his heart pounded in his chest. He felt frightened as his neck was laid bare and vulnerable to Wilson. Wilson took a knee and bent down into Matt’s face. “I’m going to take you apart, make you lose control.” Wilson ran his hand down Matt’s chest and delighted in the way Matt shivered. The lawyer was so very sensitive, especially to his touch. So very responsive. 

Wilson wrapped his hand around Matt’s cock, not needing to stroke it very long before he was already getting hard. Matt’s cock filled out in Wilson’s hand. 

“No, please… Fisk, don’t do this…” Matt implored, his vacant eyes begging Fisk to stop, to not humiliate him like this. 

“It’s too late, Mr. Murdock. I’ve made up my mind.” Fisk continues touching him in front of their captive audience. Many of them had sat down and refilled their champagne glasses, settling down to enjoy the show Wilson was giving them. Many of them were touching themselves, a few had even already started making love to each other. Images and closeups of Matt’s face appeared on screens overhead so that everybody got a front row view of Matt’s humiliation. 

“It’s far more generous than you deserve.” Vanessa’s smooth, cultured voice washed over him, her heels hitting the floor softly as she circled Matt. 

“Vanessa?” Matt whispered in surprise. He’d sensed her there but hearing her talk now, remembering her from when he’d seen her at the museum. She’d recommended a painting to him, but she had a penetrating manner that made Matt feel like she could see right through him. She immediately identified the conflict in his soul, seeing him, and Matt backed away, laughing it off and asking for something less intense. She’d acted confused after that, as if she’d never been wrong before, she always knew what was inside a person. 

She knew what was inside Matt. 

And he felt that now, Knew she was seeing what was inside him. And worse than seeing something was that there was nothing. Matt had very little left of himself to stand up to the condemnation in Vanessa’s voice. 

Matt winced when Fisk’s fist tightened painfully over his cock. “Don’t you dare say her name.”

“It’s okay, Wilson,” Vanessa said softly. Her voice was so beautiful and gentle that Matt couldn’t believe she was just going along with this. 

“Vanessa, you’re too good for this!” he said, trying to appeal to the goodness of her heart. Surely she wasn’t as brutal as her husband. A part of Matt’s heart sank as he realized that she must be just as bad as him to be attracted to such a brutal man. 

She stared down at him quietly. She touched his hair, tousled it took a good, hard long look at the vulnerable lawyer before her.. She touched his face with her long slender fingers. 

Matt whimpered. Wilson was still touching him, running his hand over Matt’s belly, hand barely grazing his cock, which stood hard and at attention, leaking and begging for attention, betraying Matt with its clear display of wanton desire. 

“No, darling.” Vanessa bent down, going to a knee, to be face level with both Matthew and her husband. She whispered into Matt’s ear and kissed it softly. “It’s time for you to suffer, Matthew.” Her slender hand rose up and pinched at his nipple. “You thought you could tear us apart. You thought you could use me as a weapon against my husband.” 

Vanessa moaned, pressing a kiss against Matt’s cheek as her hand went from his nipple down to wrap those same slender fingers around Matt’s cock. 

Suddenly, Wilson and Vanessa were kissing each other passionately, while Matt’s head was held painfully, his back arched. Matt was struggling to maintain the position Fisk held him in and each second was agony and anguish as Fisk and Vanessa played with each other’s mouths, taking their time with each other, enjoying each of their slow passionate kisses. 

Matt’s thighs were burning and his back was on fire from being arched back. Vannessa stroked his cock and he was dangerously close to coming. Matt whimpered and moaned out in pain. “Stop, please!” he begged. But they only continued. 

Vanessa had pushed down the front of her dress, freeing her breasts. Wilson leaned over Matt and sucked on her nipples. 

“Oh, my God, no!” Matt pleaded as the couple proceeded to make love to each other over Matt’s prone body. Vanessa laughed into Matt’s neck, amused and aroused by the obvious distress he was in. 

“It’s okay, baby,” she murmured, her hand rubbing at his cock still, keeping him dangerously on the verge of climax. Matt jerked his head away from hers in anger, struggling against the ropes. Wilson hand went flying against Matt’s cheek. Matt fell hard onto the floor, his cheek hitting the cold floor. 

“He tried to hurt you,” Wilson said apologetically to Vanessa. 

She scoffed. “He can’t hurt me. He wouldn’t hurt me.” She leaned forward to cup Matt’s chin in her hand. “He will do everything I say. Isn’t that right, Matthew?” 

“No! I’ll get out of here!” Matt gritted out, stubborn to the end. 

Vanessa laughed. “You’re ridiculous. You’re already trapped.” She tapped his head. “Right here. You’re ours already. Not just here,” she ran her fingers over the rope. 

Fisk stood over him and held the sides of his head. “Time to show everyone your true face, Matthew.” 

Vanessa motioned for a familiar scent. The FBI agent turned psychopathic assassin, “Dex” Poindexter, also known as Bullseye. 

“Agent Poindexter,” Vanessa said graciously as she led him to the stage. “Would you do the honors?” 

Like a faithful, broken dog, Dex went to his knees in front of Matt. Wilson held Matt’s head firm and still. Matt struggled. He was afraid of what Dex was going to do. Afraid and humiliated that the former FBI agent was seeing him like this. 

“Dex, don’t!” Matt said helplessly. 

Dex already had his fingers lubed up as his lips closed around Matt’s cock. 

Fisk continued talking, “I’m going to show everybody what you yourself can never see, Matthew. The look on your face in your most vulnerable moment, when you lose control of yourself.” 

Matt sensed hundreds of eyes on him as Pondexter worked Matt’s cock with his mouth. Dex wrapped his arms around Matt’s waist, fingers deftly finding their way into the cleft of Matt’s ass. Dex pushes his way past Matt’s tight muscles and easily penetrates him with a powerful finger. 

The muscles Dex used to throw so hard and efficiently came into good use here as he pleasured Matt’s ass. He drove his fingers deep into Matt’s most private self and easily found his prostate. Dex was no amateur at this. 

He pushed Matt over the edge. Wilson still held his face and enjoyed the vulnerable noises the blind lawyer was making. Matt twitched and struggled. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t calm himself down as Dex’s mouth and fingers forced the orgasm to rip into him. Matt’s toes curled, his mouth opened first in a silent scream and then let out an angry and helpless staccato of moans and whimpers. Matt had lost control. 

The entire room got to enjoy the helpless look on Matt’s face. They enjoyed his humiliation. After a person had been seen in such a vulnerable moment, they seemed to have less power. At least in Matt’s case. How could he have any credibility as Daredevil now that they’d seen him so utterly lost? 

Matt had come in Pondexter’s mouth, whimpering as the FBI agent moved back into the crowd, having served his purpose. Matt was a disheveled wreck. Wilson wrapped his arms around Matt and had a look of triumph. 

Matt couldn’t stand it. The orgasm, the pleasure, the pain, had been forced out of him. Had made him angry. So angry he tore through the ropes, freeing his hand and punched Wilson Fisk in the face. Vanessa tried to stop him and Matt threw her to the ground. 

He got up, ready to run, but the rope at his feet tangled and tripped him. Wilson had recovered and jumped on top of Matt and punched him repeatedly. “Don’t you ever touch her like that again!” 

Fisk’s fist came down on him hard over and over, the man was in a fury. He caught Wilson’s fist and kicked him in the stomach. He used Wilson’s surprise to scramble out from under him and off the raised dais. He stumbled down the stairs. Dex tried to grab him but was waved off by Fisk. “HE’S MINE!” Wilson’s voice boomed. 

Blood streamed down Matt’s face as he searched for a way out. Most of the crowd gave him a wide berth, while the others shoved him away from the doors, not letting him leave. Wilson caught up with him and hit him so hard he went flying. “You, Mister Murdock, are nothing here. Nothing more than a party favor, here at my pleasure.” 

Matt stumbled over a table, popping back to his feet ready to punch, but Wilson was too fast and laid him out again, sending him crashing into several party guests. Their drinks spilled all over him and still Wilson continued. “You threatened me. You threatened Vanessa. Look at you now, Murdock. You are nothing but a small man. A small, weak man.” 

“No! I’m not weak!” Matt found the strength to rise and launch himself at Fisk. He knocked the bigger man down, but Fisk was stronger and with a heavy arm sent him flying. Dex was there again and pushed him backwards, sending him falling into a pit. 

There was a loud ROAR and suddenly Matt was dodging the same bear he’d narrowly escaped in the courtyard. 

“Fight, Murdock. Show us more of what you can do. Prove you’re not as pathetic as you appear.”


End file.
